


Introduction to Algebraic Notation

by Selenay



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Avengers Teams, Alternate Origin Story, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dancing, F/F, Femslash, Friends to Lovers, Super Soldier Serum, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-08
Updated: 2013-11-08
Packaged: 2017-12-31 21:11:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1036448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selenay/pseuds/Selenay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fury has disappeared and it's been up to Maria Hill to put together the Avengers Initiative.</p><p>Her team is not the team Fury picked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Queen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Azar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azar/gifts).



> This was written for femslashex. My giftee's letter included a bunny about an alternate Avengers team with Marvel ladies taking the various roles and it sparked an idea that I ran with. Hopefully this fic comes somewhere close to filling that need.

####  **1943**

Peggy Carter had spent so many months telling herself she wasn't envious of the men who were being groomed for the super soldier serum that sometimes she almost believed the lie. She liked them, some of them anyway, and she couldn't help agreeing with Doctor Erskine's selection of Steve Rogers for his first test subject. Steve was the type of good, true, kind man who could only be made better by the serum.

Knowing that he was exactly the right man didn't stop her envying him. Envying the chance he'd been given and the journey he would be starting. It wasn't something she was proud of, but she couldn't pretend to herself that she didn't want the same chance.

Peggy wasn't sure how Doctor Erskine knew. It was probably the same instinct that had made him champion Steve despite Colonel Phillips' obvious distain. He seemed to understand human nature as clearly as he understood his science and he used that knowledge just as precisely.

So she probably shouldn't have been surprised when he pulled her aside a few days before Steve was due to be injected and offered her the same opportunity.

"We'll have to do it in secret," he said quietly. "They'll never approve this. But if we do it and then, after, we can show them that it is just as effective for you as it is for young Rogers, there won't be anything they can say."

"You intend to present them with a fait accompli," Peggy said, striving to sound calm even though she'd never felt less calm in her life.

Erskine smiled. "Exactly. How will they be able to say women cannot be as effective as men with this serum when you are standing in front of them?"

"They won't," Peggy said, feeling more cheerful than she had for months.

"Mind, we will not be able to give you a full dose," Erskine said. "I have not enough serum and Mr Stark's machine cannot provide a full dose of the Vita-rays without a drain of power that someone will notice. The effects will be milder than I anticipate seeing in Steve."

"I understand."

"Do you wish to take the risk? You understand, I cannot guarantee your safety or even that this will work."

Peggy smiled. "I'd hope I understand the risks, I've been explaining them to all the candidates for the last few weeks. I'll take it."

Erskine beamed. "Excellent. I knew that I'd made the right choice."

"Just like you knew Steve was the right man?"

"Exactly like that," Erskine said cheerfully. "Now, let us discuss how we are to be sneaky."

***

As it happened, Peggy was an expert at being sneaky. It came from long practice at escaping from nannies and governesses - and later finishing school teachers - when she wanted to do things they didn't approve of, like playing in the mud and climbing trees or learning to shoot at tin cans. All the things young ladies of quality didn't do.

But she wanted to do all of them and that's how she ended up being Agent Carter instead of Lady Something-or-other. She never did learn most of their names, those young men her parents had hoped so hard she'd settle with before she announced quite firmly that she had no intention of settling with anyone.

Creeping out of the room she shared with three other women was simple and 'borrowing' a car to drive herself to the lab at midnight was even easier. Erskine, Howard, and one nervous looking assistant were the only people in the lab. It would be a three-ring circus when Steve Rogers had his moment in the sun, but for tonight they'd just be this small, select group.

Peggy didn't mind that at all: the fewer people who saw her standing around in her underwear, the better. Howard was surprisingly gallant, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on his read-outs rather than staring at her breasts as she'd half expected. His assistant almost whistled at her, but he caught Peggy's glare and subsided.

"Are you quite sure about this?" Erskine asked as he helped her into Howard's machine.

Peggy smiled and said, firmly, "Quite."

She didn't change her mind even when she felt as though her blood was boiling in her veins and her head might burst open.

***

After it was over, Peggy's body sang with new power and strength. She could feel it buzzing under her skin, making all her muscles itch to run and jump and use all that bright new energy. It was incredible and she suddenly understood why Erskine had been so careful in his selection. In the wrong hands, this feeling could be dangerous.

If she felt this strong after a partial dose of the serum, she couldn't imagine what a full dose would feel like.

Howard and his assistant had melted away the moment the capsule opened, muttering something about checking relays. Erskine frowned as he looked at her and Peggy cocked her head.

"Is anything wrong?" she asked.

"No, no," Erskine said quickly.

Peggy narrowed her eyes. "Doctor..."

"I was just expecting to see more physical signs of growth, even at this low dose," Erskine said.

"I should be taller?"

"Bigger." Erskine shrugged. "But no matter. You were already a perfectly healthy size. Perhaps in a candidate like Steve, the effects will be more noticeable."

"At least Colonel Phillips won't be asking questions if I appear at the morning briefing looking like I've grown four inches overnight," Peggy said lightly. She picked up her shirt and pulled it on, grimacing as the fabric pulled tight across her shoulders. "Although I may need to requisition a new uniform."

Erskine beamed and Peggy laughed.

The experiment had worked better than expected and everything was going to change.

***

Except.

Gunshot and flames and blood on the floor.

Peggy cursed inside at the senseless waste and her inability to prevent it. She watched as Senator Brandt pulled Steve away and promised him everything he wanted, which she already knew would be everything he didn't want. 

And she stayed quiet.

***

####  **1945**

This was it. The last Hydra base, Schmidt's last hiding place, and the last mission in their part of the war. Peggy Carter was not going to be left behind this time.

Colonel Phillips took one look at the expression in her eyes and didn't argue at all when she lined up with everyone else, armed to the teeth and filled with fire to get it done. She'd spent nearly two years pulling her punches and pretending she couldn't outrun and outdo everyone except Steve Rogers and this...this was going to be the day she stopped pretending.

The expression in Steve's eyes when he passed nearby made her heart ache with sympathy for everything he'd lost, but wasn't the only - or even the main - reason she was doing this. She was there for everyone she'd had to watch leave the camps and never return while her entire soul yearned to be out fighting with them.

For one frozen moment she stood ready, every fibre of her body twitching and eager, then the signal was given and she started running beside her men. For once she allowed herself to run to the front, to let her speed and strength carry her to where she needed to be. Bullets flew past her, explosions rocked the earth, and Peggy Carter was in the centre of it all and she felt glorious.

***

The plan worked better than Peggy had ever dreamed but still Schmidt was ahead of them. His base collapsed around them, his men fell in their tracks or ran into the trees, and none of that mattered because he was still going to launch the attack they'd fought so hard to prevent. 

Peggy clung onto the seat of the Red Skull's car as Colonel Phillips drove it straight through a clump of Hydra soldiers, aiming for the flash of bright blue and red they'd spotted running toward the massive plane.

"Get in," Peggy ordered as they screeched to a halt beside Steve. He didn't hesitate. He vaulted into the car beside them and Phillips gunned the engine again.

They ducked as the car sped under the plane's propellers and something caught the car for a moment before they shook free with a metallic screech. Steve stood up on the seat and Peggy grabbed for him, clutching his wrist with strength that seemed to surprise him.

"Wait," she said. Shouted really. "I'm coming with you."

"You can't," Steve protested.

"I bloody well can," Peggy said firmly.

Steve hesitated for the slightest of moments and then he nodded. "On my signal then."

Icy air hit Peggy's face as they jumped and clung to the strut just above one of the plane's huge wheels. It shook beneath them, juddering and creaking as the plane lifted from the runway and Peggy could just see Phillips throw the car into a spin and stop with one wheel hanging out over the edge. She held on tight as the landing gear retracted into the plane, the wind buffeting at her and threatening to tear her away. It was a relief when they were finally inside and the hatch closed beneath them, even though Peggy knew they weren't safe here.

Nobody would be safe anywhere if they didn't stop this plane.

Dozens of smaller planes lined the hold, devices that were little more than bombs with pilots and wings. Peggy tried to count them and gave up. It was enough to know that there was one for every major city in the USA and a lot of minor ones as well. There hadn't been time to work out what they'd do when they got onto the plane and the choice was taken out of their hands almost immediately: several Hydra pilots emerged from a hatch above them and Steve pulled into a fight.

"I'll hold them off," Steve ordered as he ducked a punch. "You should get to the cockpit, if this thing has one."

Peggy grinned fiercely and drew her sidearm. "I'll find it."

She crept through the plane, trying not to feel impressed by its size and complexity. Nothing the Allies had built could possibly compare to it and she could only feel relieved that Schmidt had broken with Hitler so early in the war. Their combined strength and ambition would have brought the Allies to their knees if he hadn't.

Schmidt was alone at the controls and Peggy froze in the doorway, assessing everything before she made her move. It would be easy, from where she stood, to shoot him in the back of the head and end everything. So easy.

Too easy?

Hardly daring to breathe, Peggy raised her gun and sighted along it. From here she couldn't miss, wouldn't have missed even before the serum. She started to tighten her finger on the trigger but just as she fired, her hand was knocked off target as someone pushed past her. The shot went wild and hit an overhead girder with a loud clang.

Peggy swore under her breath but it was too late, Schmidt and Steve were already locked together in a fight and she couldn't do anything without risking the wrong man.

"Get to the controls," Steve said as he deflected one of Schmidt's shots with his shield. "Turn us around."

It was easier said than done. Schmidt didn't seem to care who he hurt or how much of his plane he destroyed in his attempts to kill Steve. Peggy had to duck and retreat as the fight ranged around the cockpit. Steve threw Schmidt against the control stick and the plane suddenly went into a steep dive. Peggy struggled to peel herself off the ceiling but all she could do was struggle helplessly against the pressure holding her there.

A moment later she fell to the deck as the Schmidt shoved Steve aside and levelled the plane. Peggy began crawling toward the controls, her knees scraped and bloody. Then everything seemed to stop and Peggy instinctively looked up.

Schmidt had the blue cube in his hand and was also staring at the ceiling. Above them, where metal girders and plates should have been, Peggy could see the universe appearing from the darkness. It hung there, clouds of stars and multi-coloured gas taking her breath away with their beauty. She'd never seen anything like it and the image burned into her mind.

Blue light pulsed out of the cube, shattering the beautiful image and making Peggy's eyes water painfully at its brightness. When her vision cleared Schmidt was gone. The blue cube seemed to melt through the floor of the plane and then fall into the ocean below. Peggy sagged against the control column and Steve looked equally exhausted a few feet away.

"Think he's gone?" Steve asked.

"I hope so," Peggy said.

She took a breath and pulled herself painfully to her feet. Steve joined her and they both looked down at the screen tracking the plane's progress across the Atlantic.

"Bloody hell," Peggy said.

Steve nodded. "We'll have to force her down. Put her in the water."

"It's the only way." Peggy swallowed. "We'll save a lot of people."

"Is there any kind of parachute?" Steve asked. "You shouldn't die as well."

Peggy's laugh sounded watery to her ears and she could feel her eyes burning. "I don't think Doctor Schmidt planned to need an escape."

She took Steve's hand and squeezed it, letting him know that she wasn't afraid. Steve nodded.

"I don't know how to fly one of these things," Steve said as he sat down at the controls. "But I guess I don't need to know how to fly if we're crashing anyway."

The water and ice were rushing up to them, getting closer by the second. Peggy dug her fingers into the back of Steve's chair and held on.

Steve looked up and their eyes met. "Doctor Erskine gave you the serum as well, didn't he?"

It didn't surprise her that he knew. "Yes, he did."

"He made the right choice."

"I've always thought so."

After that, there was icy cold and darkness and then nothing at all.

***

Peggy woke up.

At first it was just a groggy sense that the darkness and cold had gone and she could feel again, but slowly the muzziness melted away from her mind and she became aware of more. There was warm air around her and her clothes were soft and comfortable. The light was coming from her left side and there were voices coming from...somewhere.

A radio, Peggy realised after listening carefully.

The sound of a crowd cheering and someone - a male voice - narrating something steadily before breaking off as something more exciting happened.

She caught words, familiar ones: scrum, ruck, Murrayfield. Peggy listened more intently and began to recognise players' names. Men who hadn't played for the England rugby team since...

Peggy's eyes shot open as she realised what she was listening to: Calcutta Cup match, 1939, and why would anyone be replaying a match from six years ago? Unless this was some kind of trick, some ham-fisted attempt to make her believe that she was safe in England when she was somewhere else.

The room she lay in didn't look threatening, but the sunlight streaming in through an open window nearby was just slightly too harsh and the soft breeze didn't smell of anything. The traffic sounds floating in didn't feel quite right although she couldn't put her finger on why. Plain white furniture and olive coloured blankets almost shouted 'army' to Peggy's mind, but the cotton under her felt wrong. It was too soft, missing the harsh feel of bleaching and over-starching. The clothes she wore were wrong as well: t-shirt and trousers the right colour, but too fine and comfortable.

Her attention was drawn to a door opposite the end of her bed. It rattled for a moment, as though someone was unlocking it, and then it swung open to reveal a young woman wearing the shirt, tie and skirt of the uniform Peggy had worn for so many years. Everything looked perfect, but in that artificial way of someone wearing a costume rather than clothes they'd almost lived in for a long time.

Wherever she was, it definitely wasn't the quiet bedroom in a London military hospital that someone seemed to be trying to convince her she was in.

Peggy didn't need to think further than that. She rolled off the bed and pushed past the young woman, ignoring her startled "Wait!" and dashing out into a much larger, empty room. Her bedroom had just been a plywood box inside something else and now Peggy knew she needed to get out, get free, get _somewhere else_.

A door had been left slightly ajar and she ran toward it, slamming it open and startling a flock of young men in dark suits who scattered rather than trying to catch her. She ignored them, charging past to fly down the corridor and knocking aside anyone who tried to stop her. Most people leapt aside instead as soon as they realised what was happening. Only the occasional hand reached out to her and she shook them off easily. Her legs and lungs burned and she revelled in the speed and strength she'd never let herself try out with such complete abandon before.

Instinct took her along corridors and around corners, searching for a way out. Everything was bright and shiny and harshly monochrome, white walls and polished black floors with huge windows everywhere. Peggy registered somewhere in the back of her mind that the people she was pushing past - and sometimes jumping over, if they fell - were smartly dressed in dark suits and many of the women wore trousers. A few wore tight one-piece black overalls with insignias on their shoulders she didn't recognise.

None of them looked Russian or German and the shouts that followed her sounded American.

She didn't stop, she couldn't. Everything inside her cried out that something was terribly wrong and she needed to get away from it all.

Finally she emerged into some kind of lobby with a bank of glass doors ahead of her. Peggy sprinted across the black marble floor and the doors opened with barely a touch of her hand, serum-enhanced strength and furious momentum too much for the heavy mechanism. The air outside was damp and stank of car exhausts and it was _so noisy_ but it felt like freedom. She was half a block away before she slowed down and then stopped, baffled and amazed by everything around her.

This wasn't London or any other city in Europe. The yellow taxis were American and the buildings were too tall and they seemed to be covered with bright lights that flashed and turned in dizzying patterns. Voices exclaimed around her and Peggy stared up at the huge boards bearing logos that were familiar and, at the same time, achingly strange.

"Agent Carter," a voice called and Peggy turned.

A tall woman was standing in front of a huge black car that had stopped in the middle of the street, to the noisy protests of dozens of drivers. Two more, smaller cars flanked it and blocked the traffic completely.

Peggy studied the woman who seemed to be in charge. She wore one of those dark overalls she'd seen before and her dark hair was pulled back in a tight style that Peggy automatically approved of for its practicality. There was a fierce expression on the woman's face and Peggy was absolutely certain that she knew how intimidating she looked.

Another woman joined her, standing just behind her right shoulder. This one wore an even tighter suit and Peggy couldn't see any kind of logo, although she was absolutely certain that they both worked for the same organisation. Her dark red hair was loose and curled around her shoulders and there was a slight frown between her eyes that seemed curious more than angry.

"Agent Carter," the dark-haired woman said again. "You can stop running now, we won't hurt you."

"Where am I?" Peggy asked.

"New York."

"This doesn't look like the New York I know."

The woman's lips curved into a small smile. "Just trust me, it is. You've been asleep for a long time, Agent Carter. Certain people-" she shot a glance at the redhead "-tried to tell me that you wouldn't be fooled by what we tried to pull on you. I'm sorry about that."

"Next time, try not to use recordings that are so easy to place," Peggy said, surprised by how calm she sounded.

"We'll take that under advisement."

"Who are you?"

"Acting Director Maria Hill of SHIELD," the woman said.

"I've never heard of you."

Hill inclined her head slightly. "You wouldn't. SHIELD is after your time. We grew up out of the SSR."

Peggy swallowed hard, feeling something cold and uneasy blooming in her chest. "When you say I've been asleep for a long time, how long is it? Ten years? Twenty?"

"Seventy, give or take," Hill said. "Like I said, I'm sorry."

"Seventy years," Peggy repeated, feeling slightly light headed. "Seventy years. Where is Steve?"

The red headed woman stepped forward and there was something kind in her eyes even though her tone was cool. "Captain Rogers? We were hoping you'd know."

Peggy shook her head.

"He wasn't in the ice where we found you," Hill said. "It looked like he might have been taken out a long time ago. We hoped that you'd been aware of it."

"The last thing I remember is the crash," Peggy said slowly. "After that there's nothing, not until I woke up here. This is really New York?"

"It's a little bigger than you remember," the redhead said.

"A little," Peggy conceded. "It's also a lot brighter than I remember."

"Guess we've got some catching up for you to do," Hill said, her expression softening a little. "Come back with us and we'll get on that. We've got some questions for you as well."

Peggy debated with herself for a moment but there was nowhere else for her to go. For the first time, she became aware that her feet were cold and sore from running barefoot and she limped slightly as she moved toward the two women. Hill didn't wait and she was already in the front passenger seat when Peggy reached them. The other woman didn't smile, but there was something in her expression that made Peggy believe she understood.

"I'm Natasha," the woman said, holding out a hand.

Peggy took her hand and shook it. "Peggy."

Natasha didn't say anything teasing about already knowing. She just squeezed Peggy's hand for a moment before helping her into the back of the car and climbing in after her. Peggy smiled her thanks and pretended she definitely didn't want to cling onto Natasha's hand like it was a life-raft at all.


	2. Knight

Sif had been pacing in her chamber for the last hour and she felt no calmer than she had when she retreated there. Up and down, up and down, she tried to let the motion sooth her mind but it refused to quieten: her thoughts were too scattered and angry.

That Loki, who had encouraged Thor in his foolishness, would now refuse to bring Thor back to Asgard and end his punishment was intolerable. The flame of anger that had been burning in her chest flared higher each time she remembered Loki's sanctimonious expression as he lectured them on his duties to Odin's last orders. He'd sat there on that throne and his quiet words had sounded almost reasonable, in that way he always had, and yet her anger burned with each syllable.

She had allowed that anger to get the better of her during their interview. The sight of Loki on the throne when it should have been Thor had chased away her good sense and all she'd managed was to make Loki sneer and laugh at them.

Volstagg and Fandral had held her back with good reason. If they hadn't, she might have leapt onto the dais and done something terrible. Their clumsy attempts at civility hadn't eased Loki's temper but it had allowed them to escape unharmed. Even Hogun probably couldn't persuade Loki to see reason now, when there was so much for Loki to lose and so many people watching him.

Sift halted in the middle of her chamber as a though struck. Perhaps she had gone about it the wrong way. With all of Asgard looking on, Loki couldn't be seen to strike down his father's orders. But maybe if she approached him in private and bit her tongue, she might persuade him to ease Thor's banishment in some way. To return him in secret so that he could comfort Frigga while they waited for Odin's sleep to end.

Perhaps he still wouldn't listen, but Sif had to try before her anger consumed everything and made her as foolish as Thor had been.

There were back ways and secret corridors that she knew from a long childhood following Thor and Loki so she was able to get to Loki's apartment without meeting anyone who would want to stop and talk. Sif took one calming breath before slipping out from behind a tapestry into a luxuriously furnished vestibule. It was late enough that even Loki couldn't still be sitting on his new throne and marvelling at his fortune. As she'd expected, he hadn't stationed any guards here even though he had to know that she would have remembered this secret entrance.

Then again, he was probably confident that only she would remember it and he probably hadn't thought she'd come to him in private after such a public humiliation.

Three doors led off the vestibule and Sif picked the one leading to his hall rather than his chambers or bathing room. She chose correctly: when she pushed the door open, Loki was half-standing at his dining table with a plate of steaming food before him.

Sif held up her hands to show she was unarmed and Loki raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't expect to see you again today," he said smoothly, slowly lowering back to his seat. "I hope you don't want to discuss the same matters we discussed earlier."

"I do," Sif said, trying to make her voice friendly and easy.

Loki shook his head and smile gently. "Your Warriors Three have sent you hoping that a woman alone would soften my heart?"

"Nobody sends me anywhere."

"Of course not," Loki said. "The Lady Sif does as she pleases and we all watch in wonder as she bests the greatest champions. Three lazy warriors do not command her to do anything."

Sif ground her teeth to bite down her instinctive response, which had a lot to do with her fist connecting with Loki's supercilious smirk and very little to do with diplomacy.

"They do not know I am here," she said steadily. "I come alone in hopes that we may be reasonable without an audience. Bring Thor home, Loki. We are as much to blame for what happened in Jotunheim as he is."

"No, we are not," Loki said. "He struck the first blow when we had already turned to leave. My father knew that and I cannot undo his final action. You know as well, surely?"

"I know that you're an angry little boy too eaten up with jealousy to see sense! And now you're finally getting your moment of glory and you don't want anyone to take that away."

The words hung in the air and Sif closed her mouth before anything else could escape, so sharply her jaw ached with it, but she could see the damage had been done. Cold fury filled Loki's eyes and when he spoke, the smooth warm voice had been replaced by something harsh and ugly.

"And you are an angry little girl playing at swords and battles even though you should have grown out of them long ago! My brother-"

"Is my equal on the field of battle," Sif said, unable to stop the words tumbling out, "and he acknowledges it to anyone who asks."

"You're both as bad as each other." Loki stood and hit the table with his open hand. "Angry, foolish, dangerous people who will bring this realm to its knees."

"And you will save it?"

Loki glared at her but then one of his lightning flash temper changes happened before her eyes. The anger drained away and he looked thoughtful. Cunning.

Predatory.

Sif took an involuntary step back. They said Loki was a sorcerer. He might not need a spear or a sword to hurt her if he commanded the magic she'd heard rumours about.

"Are you truly so concerned for my brother?" Loki said slyly. "Then perhaps you should join him in his exile."

Before Sif could say or do anything - before she could even draw breath - Loki clapped his hands together and light bloomed where they met. Then he seemed to throw the light toward Sif with a sweeping motion and it wrapped around her, freezing her limbs and stoppering her mouth with bands of icy cold. Sif struggled for a brief, fruitless moment before the Loki and his hall melted away around her.

She was falling through space and empty, frozen darkness. Stars rushed past her and through her and she couldn't move or resist. The fall seemed to go on forever and for barely a breath, her sense of time feeling as confused as her sense of location.

Her vision began to go grey at the edges and Sif struggled against her bonds but that only made black spots appear before her eyes. The darkness suddenly changed to bright sunlight and still she fell but now she could see tall grey buildings rushing past her.

Sif hit the ground and her world exploded into pain. It set every part of her on fire and then, mercifully, the pain swallowed her into the darkness of unconsciousness.

***

Waking was slow and painful. For a long time, Sif drifted in a warm, fluffy haze where nothing mattered and nothing hurt. It was a good place and she fought to stay there when the world outside started to intrude.

Her head hurt. That was the first thing she was really aware of, the sharp pulses of pain that timed to her heartbeat. Then other hurts became more important, deep throbbing aches in her gut and knee, and Sif would have gritted her teeth against it but that only made her head hurt more.

There were sounds around her. A quiet, rhythmic beeping that was both soothing and incredibly irritating all at once. Whispers and rustles of clothing, soft footsteps.

Sif tried to force her eyes open so she could see who was near her. She squinted as harsh lights sent pain lancing through her skull.

A feminine voice said, "She's awake. Fetch Acting Director Hill."

The lights dimmed and Sif could open her eyes properly. A woman in a white coat and black trousers stood nearby. She wrote something on a board and stepped closer, removing a small silver stick from her pocket. The stick was some kind of light that she shone into Sif's eyes for a moment and Sif couldn't prevent a gasp at the new discomfort.

"I'm sorry, that probably hurt," the woman said.

"Then why did you do it?" Sif asked, or tried to ask anyway.

Her throat was dry and painful and all that emerged was a croak.

The woman seemed to understand her and she smiled gently. "To check that you aren't bleeding into your brain. You had a head injury when you were brought in, although you're recovering much faster than I anticipated."

Sif tried to swallow and the healer winced sympathetically. She put her board down and reached over to somewhere just out of Sif's sight to pick up a glass with a thin green stalk protruding from it. Working out to suck water through the stalk - straw, the healer told her - took a minute but when SIf had the technique conquered she sucked at it greedily, feeling the cool liquid soothing and loosening her throat.

"My thanks," Sif said. "Where am I?"

The healer opened her mouth to speak but something made her pause and straighten up. Sif carefully turned her head and felt relieved when the movement didn't send fresh waves of pain through her head. She immediately identified what had caught the healer's attention: a woman standing only a few feet away, who had moved so quietly Sif hadn't even noticed and was now looking at her with an expression of intense curiosity.

"Assistant Director Hill," the healer said. "I just sent for you-"

"I was on my way here anyway," Hill said. "She's awake?"

"Where am I?" Sif asked.

"You're in a SHIELD medical facility," Hill said. "You fell a long way and nearly ended up under a semi when you landed."

Sif frowned. "A semi what?"

"That's...probably not really relevant right now," Hill said. "What I want to know is how you suddenly materialised in mid-air and fell into the middle of a road in Midtown during the busiest part of the rush hour."

A lot of the words made little sense, but Sif grasped the important parts: she wasn't on Asgard and Loki had sent her somewhere that had nearly killed her.

"That silver-tongued _snake_ ," Sif said viciously.

Hill raised an eyebrow. "I take it that you're not here voluntarily, then?"

"No," Sif said. "Which realm is this?"

"Earth," Hill said. "You might call it Midgard."

Sif swore under her breath. "Where is my armour? How long did I sleep?"

"You've been unconscious for four days. Frankly, we didn't think you were going to wake up at all but you Asgardians seem to have pretty amazing recovery abilities."

"You know of my people?"

Hill cocked her head thoughtfully for a moment before nodding, as though she'd made a decision. She lifted a metal tablet Sif had not even realised she was carrying. A stylized eagle was embossed on the back and Hill pressed something on the side before holding it out at an angle where Sif could look at it without moving her head.

The shiny surface displayed a picture and Sif sighed as she recognised the man at the centre.

"You recognise him?" Hill asked.

"Thor," Sif said.

"And them?" Hill pressed something and the picture changed. "Do you recognise them?"

"The Warriors Three," Sif said slowly. "They were here?"

Hill didn't reply and the picture changed again. Sif drew in a sharp breath at the sight of metal and flame.

"The Destroyer," she breathed. "Loki sent it. I'll kill him."

"That may be difficult," Hill said, a note of sympathy tingeing her voice. "Your friends disappeared two days ago after disabling the Destroyer and incinerating a small town. The scientist they were working with has some theories about the way they travelled her and she thinks that way might be closed for now. I don't even pretend to understand what she was talking about but it looks like you're trapped here for now."

"Trapped?" Sif said, feeling cold fear tightening her guts for the first time since she'd woken up. "I can't be, there must be a way."

"Doctor Foster is working on it," Hill said, "but it could take some time."

Sif tried to push herself upright, some instinct telling her that she had to move or escape or doing _something_ instead of lying there and listening to what Hill was saying. Hill pressed on her shoulder and Sif was embarrassed that a light touch could force her down again. There was strength in Hill's hand, more than she looked like she should have, but Sif blamed her weakness on whatever the healer had dosed her with over the days she'd lain here. It had sapped her strength.

She glared up at Hill irritably. "Let me go."

"No."

"You cannot keep me here!"

Hill shrugged. "Where do you want to go?"

Sif opened her mouth and realised that she had absolutely no idea where she could go. The realms were closed to her until the Bifrost reopened or this Doctor Foster discovered a new way to travel it. After a minute she felt foolish and closed her mouth, which seemed to amuse Hill because a smile twitched at the corner of her mouth.

She hadn't removed her hand from Sif's shoulder yet and Sif didn't try to shrug her away.

"I have nowhere," Sif said quietly. "My home is on Asgard, there's nothing for me here. I must claim refuge, Assistant Director Hill, if you will give it."

Hill's eyes met hers and there was a hint of kindness there behind the sternness.

"I think we can work something out," Hill said.


	3. Bishop

Peggy took a sip of tea and made a face when cold liquid hit her lips. She'd learned to drink bad tea and coffee of all flavours back in the war but two months of comfortable living had reawakened old preferences and she hated cold tea. It was worse than cold coffee and nobody could persuade her that coffee over ice was a treat. The tea was cold and her legs were cramping from sitting on her feet for far too long so she set aside her reading material and stood up. She had to hop around for a minute until her feet stopped tingling and she could walk normally.

The kitchen of her tiny SHIELD-issue apartment was tiny but as she'd never been much of a cook or baker, it didn't really matter to her. At least it was somewhere away from SHIELD's headquarters, where she'd felt constantly watched and crowded by all the people. The apartment was sparsely decorated and it didn't feel like home yet, but Peggy hoped that would change with time.

She certainly wasn't going to have the resources to rent something of her own for a while. That would require a job and a purpose, neither of which she had yet.

Peggy made tea in a mug with a teabag, smiling faintly at the thought of what her mother would say about the lack of refinement to it. At least she hadn't been reduced to heating water in a microwave. The kettle on the stove was the first thing she'd bought when SHIELD finally issued her with a bank account and a small stipend.

She carried the mug back to the couch in the living room and sat down. The room still looked bare despite the plants and framed prints she'd tried decorating it with. There wasn't much she could do about the beige walls and furniture, which made the room look blank and impersonal. The one bright thing in the room was the patchwork blanket Peggy pulled over her legs as she curled up with her tea. It had been a house-warming present from Natasha, who had just shrugged and refused to answer when Peggy asked her where she'd found it.

That meant it was probably something that Natasha valued in some way but Peggy had learned she rarely talked about the things that were actually important to her.

The blanket was warm and comforting, the bright colours bringing an involuntary smile to her lips again, and she smoothed a hand over it before reached down to the box on the floor beside her.

Issue twenty-five of Peggy Carter: British Agent was as ridiculous and over-wrought as issues one to twenty-four had been and Peggy chuckled quietly at a few of the panels. She was halfway through issue thirty and contemplating another cup of tea when there was a knock at her door.

It took a minute to untangle herself from the blanket and she was still holding the comic when she unlocked and opened the door. Natasha held up a big bag of food from the local Thai place and the smells wafting out of it made Peggy's stomach growl.

This was definitely the down side to enhanced metabolism. She'd spent most of the war feeling half-famished and using every trick in the book to stretch her rations out.

"That smells delicious," Peggy said without thought. "Hello."

Natasha smiled. "I guess you're hungry."

Peggy rolled her eyes and stepped back to let Natasha in. "It _is_ supper time."

Natasha went straight to the small table in the corner of the living room while Peggy put the comic back in its bag and carefully inserted it into the box. Nothing in there was a first edition - most of them were replicas, she'd been told - but she'd seen how careful people were about these things now and she couldn't just leave them lying around. She folded the blanket in half and draped it over the back of the sofa, pretending not to see the glances that Natasha shot her or the slight smile that appeared.

Although Natasha had demonstrated several times that she was quiet happy to share food straight out of the container, Peggy fetched plates and cutlery from the kitchen anyway. The soft snort of laughter Natasha gave her when she saw them made Peggy feel warm and happy.

"You're never going to integrate with the culture here if you insist on using the good silverware for takeout," Natasha said.

Peggy shrugged and handed her a plate. "I'm quite happy not to be assimilated, thank you. I spent enough time eating out of cans and using the same spoon for everything on the Front. If I've got proper cutlery then I'll use it."

Natasha grinned and sat down, pushing the box of cashew chicken towards Peggy and picking up the ginger beef to dump half of it on her plate. Peggy snagged a couple of satay skewers from their container and smothered them with peanut sauce. They ate in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes.

"The food has definitely improved over the last seventy years," Peggy said after a while.

"You say that every time I bring Thai," Natasha said.

Peggy held up a forkful of noodles. "And I mean it every time. The food is so much more interesting now."

"It can be even more interesting."

"Raw fish is still the line I won't cross."

Natasha shrugged philosophically. "You'll try it one day. You said the same thing about calamari a couple of weeks ago."

"At least the squid was cooked."

"I can find you some cooked sushi, start you out gently."

Peggy made a sceptical sound and Natasha laughed.

"I can't believe Coulson let you borrow those," Natasha said a minute later, gesturing to the box of comics with a satay skewer.

"Why does he have them?" Peggy asked.

"He's a completist. They're a spin-off from the Captain America comics."

"At least now I know how Steve felt when he was reading comics about him. It's very strange. Do they really think that's the kind of thing I did?"

"I don't think they were aiming at accuracy," Natasha said dryly. "Howard Stark told the world that you'd been given the serum after you both disappeared. Your government needed a hero so they tried the same thing the Americans did and it worked. Agent Carter ran for over a hundred issues."

"I can't believe people bought them. Some of them are terrible - there's a three-issue arc about me stopping a Nazi breeding program for killer chimpanzees."

"Have you got to the Captain Britain stories yet?"

Peggy grimaced. "Not yet, but I've seen some of the covers. The Union Jack is upside down on my uniform."

"They didn't play well, apparently. Readers thought it was nationalistic in all the wrong ways."

"That doesn't entirely surprise me."

Natasha smiled and Peggy was surprised, again, by how much she liked that she could make Natasha do that.

"Have you read any of them?" Peggy asked.

"We got a few," Natasha said, ducking her head and pretending to be completely focussed on spearing a piece of beef. "When I was...training. Sometimes we were allowed to see examples of Western propaganda."

There was a hint of bitterness in Natasha's tone and Peggy couldn't stop herself reaching out to touch Natasha's free hand. It was hard to believe that this beautiful, brave woman had once been a brain-washed assassin. Natasha hesitated for a moment before turning her hand and curling her fingers around Peggy's. It was a simple, small gesture but Peggy knew Natasha well enough now to know that what she showed on the surface was always only a tiny part of what she was thinking or feeling deep down. Natasha squeezed her hand briefly before withdrawing and they finished their meal in silence.

"Do you still like dancing?" Natasha asked later while they were clearing away the remains of the meal.

"How did you know I liked dancing?"

Natasha smiled a quiet, secretive smile. "I have my sources."

"People don't really dance the way I used to dance," Peggy said. "I'm not sure that I'm ready for the clubs yet."

"What if I told you that I've found somewhere we could dance the way we used to in the old days?"

Peggy doubted Natasha had ever had the chance to dance much back in the old days, but she didn't say that.

"I'm not really dressed for it," Peggy said thoughtfully.

"Neither am I, tonight," Natasha said. "Tomorrow?"

"Natasha Romanov, are you asking me to go dancing with you?" Peggy said, aware that it sounded a lot more flirtatious than she'd intended only after the words came out of her mouth.

"Would you say yes if I am?"

There was nothing in Natasha's voice or eyes to indicate what answer she was hoping for, which Peggy now knew from experience meant Natasha was trying not to hope for anything. And it made the answer obvious to her.

"Yes, I would."

A bright smile lit up Natasha's face and Peggy felt something warm and cautiously happy flutter in her chest.

***

Peggy nearly called Natasha to cancel dancing the next evening. She'd had a hard training and sparring session and even though the bruises had healed by the time she got home, she still felt sore and stiff. It had been a long since she'd last danced - subjectively as well as literally - and she had no idea what kind of place Natasha might have found.

A tiny part of her was also nervous that she'd arrive at the address Natasha had sent to find that she'd been set up on a surprise double date. It was the way things used to be and just the thought was depressing. Peggy didn't think Natasha was the type of person who did that, not really, but it didn't seem likely that Natasha planned to spend the evening dancing _with_ her either.

Back before the ice, there wouldn't have even been the possibility. Women waited for men to ask them or, if they were bold or scandalous, they asked the men.

Women didn't dance with each other after they'd left childhood behind.

Things were different now, though, and that made Peggy hope for things she'd never known how to hope for before. Things like dances with a beautiful woman who made her laugh when she needed to and sometimes looked at her in a way that made her heart beat a little faster.

Peggy had the phone in her hand, the number half dialled, but she hesitated. She thought hard for a long moment, trying to track every possibility, and then called herself ten kinds of idiot before putting the phone down and heading into the bathroom for the longest shower she could manage.

***

Natasha was standing outside the entrance to the club when Peggy's taxi arrived. She looked...nothing like Peggy had imagined Natasha would look. Peggy had expected a trouser suit of some kind, probably black and cut to hug and flatter Natasha's curves without leaving anyone in any doubt about how dangerous the woman wearing it was. It was hard to picture Natasha wearing anything that didn't look sleek and deadly.

Or it hadn't been until this exact moment because right now, Natasha wouldn't have looked out of place in any of the dance halls in London seventy years ago. Her dress was dark green and she'd carefully rolled and pinned her hair. Peggy couldn't tear her eyes away as she paid the driver and climbed out of the cab.

"When you said you knew somewhere..." Peggy said, gesturing to Natasha's clothes as she approached.

Natasha lips quirked into a smile. "It's actually not that hard to find the right clothes in New York."

"It doesn't seem to be hard to find anything here. You look amazing."

"I'd fit right in?"

"You'd be perfect," Peggy said.

She hadn't had time to go shopping so she'd had to pick something out of her meagre wardrobe. While Natasha looked like she'd stepped out of a dance hall, Peggy knew she looked much more like something out of the current century. At least she was wearing a dress and heels instead of the jeans she'd nearly pulled on and she'd pinned up her hair out of habit.

"What is this place?" Peggy asked, looking up at the sign above the door that just said "Eddie's".

"You'll see," Natasha said with a mysterious smile.

Peggy heard the music as soon as they stepped inside the lobby and she smiled as she recognised it. She caught Natasha watching her out of the corner of her eye and saw a small, pleased smile appear on Natasha's lips. The other woman didn't say anything, though, just led the way into the dance hall and Peggy almost choked for a moment.

"It's not exactly authentic," Natasha said, "but I thought that at least you'd know the steps."

Some of the couples dancing out on the floor would have caused a ruckus in most dance halls where Peggy came from - she'd heard of a few places that were more permissive but she'd never gone to them - and there were at least a few people in modern clothes, but it was still surprisingly familiar. The sounds, the moves, the smell of beer and people having fun, all of that was exactly what she remembered.

"If this makes you uncomfortable, we don't have to stay," Natasha said, gesturing to the couple dancing past them.

Peggy grinned as one of them swung his partner out and then back again, both men laughing as they messed up the turn and accidentally collided with each other. Behind them two women were dancing with far more skill and an older couple, a man and a woman, spun rapidly out of range of the two inexpert dancers before they could turn their collision into a pile-up.

"No, we definitely have to stay," Peggy said cheerfully. "This is perfect."

"Really?"

"Really."

Natasha looked unexpectedly relieved and held out a hand. "Dance with me?"

"I'd love to."

The song ended just as they stepped onto the floor, but the band on the stage immediately started another fast one and for a minute Peggy was so busy concentrating on remembering the steps that she didn't have time to think about anything else. Then her muscle memory took over and she was dancing like it hadn't been seventy years since the last time. She wasn't surprised to find that Natasha could dance perfectly. Peggy had seen Natasha fight and the athletic grace she showed in the sparring room had always made her think Natasha was a natural dancer.

It didn't feel strange at all to have a partner who matched her in height or who felt slim and light in her arms. In fact, Peggy wondered after a couple of fast dances how she'd ever tolerated the clumsy, flat-footed men she'd partnered before.

When the band moved into a slower number, Peggy wondered for a moment whether Natasha would ask for a break. It was the kind of song people danced to with their sweethearts, after all.

A warm, fluttering feeling settled in her gut when Natasha just pulled her closer and their bodies connected.

"Is this alright?" Natasha asked, her expression carefully blank.

The way she seemed to focus on Peggy's left ear instead of meeting her eyes boldly as she usually would signalled to Peggy that this meant something. Natasha wasn't usually shy or uncertain, it was one of the traits Peggy particularly appreciated, so this uncharacteristic hesitation was...new.

Peggy made herself take one slow breath, just to give herself time to be sure, and then she leaned in and cautiously brushed her lips over Natasha's.

She felt Natasha's breath catch and she pulled back, fear making her heart race. There was still nothing to read in Natasha's eyes and only the tight grip Natasha had on her hand and waist kept Peggy from backing away.

Then a smile slowly pulled at Natasha's lips and the expression in her eyes resolved into one of disbelieving hope.

This time Natasha was the one who leaned in first but Peggy met her halfway in a kiss that she planned to remember for a long time. It was a good kiss, maybe the best kiss she'd ever had because Natasha was _good_ at it, and the best part was the way Natasha looked at her when they reluctantly had to part for air.

Like she'd suddenly been given something amazing. Peggy had never seen anyone look at her that way before.

They danced all night until Peggy's feet were sore and they were both so tired they could barely move. She kissed Natasha goodnight in a shadowed doorway and then again at her apartment door and then, one final time, just before they drifted to sleep together under the patchwork blanket on her sofa.


	4. Rook

"How long must I remain confined here?" Sif asked, gesturing around the sparse quarters she'd been assigned when the healers released her.

The expression on Maria Hill's face didn't change at all. She was standing precisely in the centre of the living area, her arms crossed over her chest, just as she always did when she visited. It always made Sif feel both irritated and slightly intimidated because Hill was so difficult to read.

"You're not confined here," Maria said. "We've given you access to-"

"Training rooms where I must play with sticks and halls where I must eat slop," Sif said, trying to put all the contempt she could muster into her voice. "When you offered me refuge, I thought that I might be useful to you. Instead you pen me here and do not even trust me to teach your warriors what I know."

"Your people destroyed a town. In less than ten minutes." Maria raised an eyebrow. "Nothing you've told me over the last few weeks has made me feel much like trusting you."

"And I have told you that the Destroyer must have been sent by Loki, who is hardly an ideal representation of my people."

"And I suppose Thor and your other friends are?"

Sif took a deep breath, forcing herself not to sound angry or frustrated or any of the other emotions boiling in her chest. "We haven't conducted ourselves well here, I admit, but if you give me a chance to prove my worth...to prove my _trustworthiness_...I promise, you will not regret it."

The expression that flickered in Maria's eyes for a moment might have been regret, maybe, but it was gone too fast for Sif to be sure. "Right now, I've got half a dozen different agencies shouting for my head because I'm not Fury and I can't find Fury for them. I can't let an alien just wander around a secure facility while you prove that you can be trusted and I definitely can't let you loose on the streets of New York."

"So I must remain confined," Sif said.

"For now, yes. I'm sorry, Sif, but this is the best I offer right now and it's a damn sight better than I probably should be offering."

Which only confirmed to Sif that her other option was a cell and while these quarters were barely a step up from that, at least she had some limited freedom. Enough to keep her from crawling the walls and trying to escape. There weren't exactly many places she could go if she did escape.

Maria started moving toward the door and Sif began to turn away but a new thought occurred. She didn't let herself reconsider or think too deeply.

"Director Hill," she said quickly. "One last thing."

Maria's shoulders tensed as she turned, her hand already on the door handle. "Yes?"

"You cannot allow me to simply wander, I understand that," Sif said, "but if there was need of me, of my skills, would you allow me to aid you? To give me a chance to prove myself to you?"

There was barely a pause before Maria said, "If hell freezes over and something comes up then sure. We'll call you."

"That's all I ask," Sif said, feeling a small spark of hope flare into life.

She wasn't sure why she needed to prove herself to Maria in particular but just the thought that it _might_ be possible made her feel more cheerful than she had for days.

***

Sif hadn't really expected her plea have any effect but three days later Maria Hill was standing in the precise centre of her living area again, arms crossed over her chest, and this time she wasn't watching Sif with suspicion in her eyes. In fact, if Sif had to put a name to it, she would have called the expression in Maria's face...worried.

Perhaps with a shade of frustration.

"Were you serious about wanting to prove we can trust you?" Maria asked.

Sif nodded, just a slight tip of her head, and waited.

The cautious reaction seemed to unsettle Maria. She hesitated and a small line appeared between her brows, as though whatever carefully considered speech she'd been planning to make had been ruined by a lack of enthusiastic begging. Sif allowed a small smile to twitch at the corner of her mouth and was rewarded by Maria's frown deepening.

"What do you know about portals between worlds?" Maria said.

"Very little," Sif said. "I am not a magician."

Maria sighed. "Damn."

"Perhaps if I could see this portal?" Sif said.

"That could be a problem right now." Maria shook her head and finally uncrossed her arms. "We can't get close enough to see it properly and that means our magic users can't close it. I hoped you might have access to something else."

"I'm a warrior." Sif lifted her chin proudly. "I can fight anything that travels through such a portal, but I cannot build or destroy one."

The assessing look Maria gave her was probably supposed to make Sif feel uncomfortable, perhaps even intimidate her. Sif was fairly sure that the warmth she could feel in her face wasn't from fear and she met Maria's look with a challenging one of her own. It wasn't a stand-off, not really, but after a long moment Maria nodded and let a small smile escape.

"Follow me," Maria said. "I guess we can use you after all."

"I'm not dressed for a battle," Sif said, gesturing down at the plain black overalls she wore.

"I think we can help you with that," Maria said. "Are you in?"

Sif grinned. "Of course."

***

They almost ran most of the way from Sif's quarters down to the cars in the basement, moving so fast people had to jump out of their way. Sif didn't have much experience with the way SHIELD operated but from the startled expressions on the people she passed, she guessed this wasn't normal. Not at all.

She didn't have time to wonder what it meant. There was a large car waiting for them and it pulled away almost before they were settled in the back seat. Sif hung onto a handle overhead as the car screeched around a corner and out into bright sunshine. Maria barely looked disturbed by the way they were being flung around the vehicle. She pulled a tablet out of a pocket on the seat in front of her and pressed something on it before holding it out.

"Do you recognise them?" she asked.

Sif studied the screen, where several creatures that looked distinctly insectoid were fighting with black-clad SHIELD soldiers. The insects looked like they were winning.

"I've seen nothing like those before," Sif said. "They are not from any realm I know, but the universe is infinite."

"We've got at least fifty putting up a fight in the middle of Central Park and they seem to be protecting the portal," Maria said. "We can get readings and we've got someone on the scene who might be able to shut down the portal, but we need a way through those things."

"Surely with all your weaponry-"

"Those carapaces are bullet-proof," Maria said with a sour look. "Heavy artillery isn't doing much and I'm not prepared to authorise a missile attack in the middle of New York. Yet. I've got a few big hitters heading our way but we need more people. So far, slicing those bugs apart is working a hell of a lot better than anything else we've tried."

"My weapons are on Asgard," Sif said.

"I've got your armour and some weapons for you in the trunk," Maria said. "I think you'll feel at home with them."

"You assumed that I'd help you?"

"I hoped."

There wasn't time to wonder what the small smile curving Maria's lips meant because their car stopped suddenly and Sif almost slid off her seat due to the momentum. They were in the middle of a gathering of black cars and vans at the edge of what Sif assumed had to be Central Park. This must be the place SHIELD was coordinating their assault on the portal from and Sif was surprised when Maria led her round to the back of their car instead of handing her over to a junior agent. Maria heaved the trunk door open and stepped back so Sif could look inside.

Silver steel glinted in the sunlight and Sif lifted a chest plate out of a crate. It was the armour she'd been wearing when Loki threw her out of Asgard but someone had carefully repaired it, hammering out the dents and replacing all the buckles and straps that had been cut away when the healers extracted her from it. 

Sif ran a hand over the cold metal. "It's like new."

"We found a smith who knows about this stuff," Maria said. "There aren't many around anymore."

"Thank you."

Maria reached into a bag next to the crate. "I thought you might need this as well."

The weapon she held out looked like what a human might create from the descriptions and sketches Sif had provided over the weeks of confinement. It resembled two wickedly sharp knives joined by a short handle covered with a leather grip and Sif smiled as she took it. She stepped back, making sure there was enough clear space around her, and pressed the small metal nub cleverly concealed where she wouldn't mistakenly push it in the heat of a battle. The weapon immediately telescoped out into a heavy staff with long blades at each end and the balance was perfect. 

The corner of a shield poked out of the bag and Sif raised an eyebrow. "In my realm, weapons of this magnificence would be given as courting gifts."

"Really?" Maria said with a sly smile. "In this realm, we go more for chocolates and flowers."

"This world has strange customs."

Maria chuckled. "I could say the same thing about yours. Can you be ready to go in five minutes?"

"What happens in five minutes?"

"My big hitters arrive and you get to slice some bugs. Show us what you can do."

Sif nodded. "I will be ready."


	5. Opening

Maria looked around the table at the women she'd gathered together and smiled. It wasn't the group that Fury had wanted, but he'd disappeared on a mission he'd refused to tell anyone about and, as far as Maria was concerned, this was the right group.

The right team.

Or they were growing into a team, anyway. The video playing on a screen behind her demonstrated that better than any lecture she could give. They hadn't just worked together to fight of the invaders and close the portal, they'd all used their various strengths in the clean-up after. Three days later, Maria still felt a thrill of pride at how well it had all gone.

At the far end of the conference table, Pepper Potts was watching the video with an expression of avid interest. The large briefcase at her feet probably contained a portable version of the Rescue armour and Maria decided not to ask exactly how that worked with the slim skirt and high heels Pepper was wearing. Tony Stark had probably done something incredibly clever and a small part of Maria regretted that he'd chosen to do his own thing rather than being a part of the team.

Only a small part. Stark was deeply irritating and Pepper was much easier to work with.

On Pepper's left, Carol Danvers reclined casually in her chair looking completely relaxed but her eyes were flickering rapidly as she followed the fight on the screen. She was wearing her red and blue uniform rather than her Air Force one, which Maria was choosing to take as a hopeful sign.

Natasha and Peggy filled out that side of the table and they had their heads bowed together, talking quietly. Maria couldn't hear what they were saying but the gentle smile on Natasha's lip was new and she filed that information away carefully. Peggy Carter had been a revelation, much stronger and faster than Maria had ever hoped for. She'd been everywhere in the battle, slicing at insects with the sharp-edged shield that R and D had provided and using a flame thrower to roast the creatures.

The only thing that hadn't worked out was the Union Jack-themed uniform the research department had fallen in love with. Peggy had taken one look at it and laughed. They were going to need to work something out for her otherwise the marketing department would cry.

Maria shifted her attention to the other side of the table. Jennifer Walters looked like she'd just stepped out of court, which Maria thought was probably exactly what had happened. She was ignoring the video to focus on a thick folder and her tailored suit and neat updo were a world away from the green skin and spandex of her alter-ego.

The last member of the group was still the most difficult one for Maria to read. Sif seemed to be splitting her time between watching the video and observing the other women at the table. She'd offered to surrender her weapons and armour at the end of the fight and it was that, as much as her honesty, which had allowed Maria to start trusting her.

Not that Maria was planning to give Sif the keys to SHIELD's securest areas any time soon, but at least she was starting to feel like Sif _could_ be an ally. Perhaps even a friend.

The bunch of flowers and box of chocolates that had appeared on Maria's desk this morning seemed to indicate that Sif was thawing to her. At least enough to flirt, which was a new experience. Most people seemed to feel too intimidated to do that and the gifts had put a warm glow in Maria's cheeks for at least ten minutes.

Sif turned away from her thoughtful contemplation of Peggy and sent Maria a warm smile. Maria couldn't quite stop her lips twitching into an answering one, which was probably a very bad idea but apparently she didn't have as much control over her reactions around Sif as she wanted. If she did then there wouldn't be a knife sitting in a box in her desk drawer, waiting for the right moment.

Maria pushed all thoughts of flowers and knives and unexpected flirtations away and stood up. Peggy and Natasha stopped murmuring to each other and Maria felt the intensity of six curious gazes focussing on her.

She didn't shrink or apologise. There was no need.

Instead she smiled around the table and said, "I'd like to talk to you about the Avengers Initiative."


End file.
